


Crawling Back To You

by ZarryFTZouis



Series: Chrissy's Oneshots [62]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Job, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, M/M, Multi, Pining Zayn, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:26:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarryFTZouis/pseuds/ZarryFTZouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn loves Harry, Harry loves Grimmy and Grimmy? He's the bastard with a clever tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crawling Back To You

**Author's Note:**

> Title obviously from Arctic Monkeys' "Do I Wanna Know".
> 
> I read a Stylinshaw (Grylinson?) on AO3 ("Promise Not To Stop When I Say When") and got inspired to write a Stylikshaw. Also, the Sheylinson ("Never Ever Ever Stop For Anyone") from AO3, again.

**Zayn's POV**

  It's bloody stupid when you're in love with your best mate, also someone who you're with more than half the year because he also happens to be your bandmate.

  Oh, that person is Harry fucking Styles, with his bloody green eyes with hints of grey in certain lighting, and curls that I can't help but think about burying my hands into as we kiss, or his dimples, dimples that he flashes so often when he smiles.

  Yeah, I'm a downright idiot for have fallen for a guy who's  _obviously_  in a relationship with someone else, someone who goes by name of Nick Grimshaw.

  It's all the media talks about, really. "Gryles" this, "Gryles" that, "Gryles" everything. They don't even bother hiding up their relationship, neither confirming nor denying it whenever asked.

  Bastards. 

  I was running a lap around my house, which is hard once the words get out I'm outside and people try to get my autographs and shite, and decided to finish it early.

  When I'm back home, however, I'm greeted by sight of someone I was definitely not expecting.

  Nick, the bloody sodding bastard himself somehow got my spare key from its hidden place (mental note: Don't hide it under the flower pot from now on) and he has a big grin plastered on his face.

  "First, how did you know where I live?" I raise my hand to my temple, rubbing it out of habit. "'Cos I don't remember telling anyone other than my band members my exact residence."

  "You're forgetting who I'm friends with, dear Zayn," his grin remains on his face. 

  "Second, if I told you to sod off, will you get out of my house?" He shakes his head no. "Third, what the fuck are you doing here?"

  "I'm not as blind as you think I am, Malik," suspicion rolls over me but I manage to keep a straight face, trying to look indifferent. "You know  _exactly_  what I mean by that, Zayn. I see how you look at him."

  "I'll call the cops if you don't move your fucking arse out of the sofa, Grimshaw. After that, I'll burn the thing from being contaminated by you," I give him a level look, letting him know I'm dead serious.

  "I didn't peg you as a dramatic type but really, Zayn, stop lying to me," his green eyes, which are nothing like Harry's other than the shared colour, glint with amusement. "Would there any other reason why I'd be here, when you hate my very existence for having someone who you don't have?"

  _Now I have a sudden hatred for all radio hosts_ , I note inside my head, shaking my head at Nick.  _He doesn't have any right to fuck with my head._

  "On the contrary, it's really entertaining," he muses mostly to himself. Great, I accidentally said that last part out  loud. "Seeing your pretty face twist with anger is kind of a turn-on."

  "Save your words for your boy toy. You're making me feel uncomfortable, you bloody bastard," I realise I haven't closed the door ever since I set my foot inside the house so I do exactly that, feeling his eyes trained on my backside. When I turn back around, his eyes are dark with something I can't tell. "Do you ogle everyone's back view?"

  "Only the sexy people's."

  "I asked you what you're doing in my house and you didn't give me any answers yet," I cross my arms against my chest, leaning against a wall beside the sofas. "'You hate my very existence for having someone who you don't have' doesn't exactly answer what I want to know your being here."

  "It explains exactly what I meant, mate. C'mon-"

  "Don't 'mate' me. Last time I checked, we aren't exactly friends."  _Because I can't make myself befriend someone who has who should be with me._  "Just sod off and go back to Harry."

  "I'm here to propose something and you aren't even a bit interested in what I want to say?"

  "Nothing that leaves your mouth will ever interest me."

  "So you're telling me that you aren't interested in going out tonight, with me and our dear Harold, for a couple drinks? They're on me, I'm even offering." There's a calculating glint in his eyes, ignored by me.

  "Fine, but you said you're paying, you bugger."

~*~

  Nick texted about four minutes before I grabbed a jacket as I was heading outside, telling me we're going to Funky Buddha. 

  "So good to know he forgot to inform me..." I grouse under my breath, calling my security to escort me to the damn club.

  Twenty minutes and a mob of paparazzi later, I walk into crowd, shielding my eyes from the bright flashes coming off of the clicking cameras. Once I'm in, I find, unfortunately, Grimmy and Harry waiting for me, who are obviously in middle of snogging their faces off.

  They're sat on the bar stools - or  _pressed_ , rather - with Harry's back against the counter on the swively chair, Nick's tongue shoved down his throat. I'm more than thirty feet away from the couple yet I can hear their groans through the blared music.

  Fucking PDA.

  Grimmy is the first to notice I'm here, one eye opening to acknowledge me, and doesn't bother pulling away from the kiss he's sharing with Harry. He even goes further, groping Harry's growling bulge with his hand. Harry moans into the older's mouth, his hips jerking up. Nick slides his large hands into his trousers, massaging the growing problem.

  _And am I seriously getting turned on by this?_ I curse silently when my own body reacts to what I'm witnessing. I take couple strides towards "Gryles" and tap Nick on the shoulder. He detaches his mouth from Harry's and flashes a cocky grin at me.

  "Well hello, Zayn. Fancy seeing you here!" His words are slurred, indicating he's proper pissed already. Harry just looks at me apologetically, shaking his head once, telling me not to ruin his mood or summat. "Wait, did I actually ask you to come here?"

  "Your boyfriend's drunk as fuck, Harry," I state the obvious, earning couple snorts from people surrounding us. What can I say? One Direction plus a fucking Radio 1 DJ equals a crowd-gatherer. 

  Fucking hell.

  "He told me to meet up with him here at half-five. Didn't know he'd be having drinking well before then..." He presses his lips to Nick's cheek, reawakening my jealousy I've been tempering down for last couple minutes. "C'mon, babe, I think you're done here."

  "No, lemme have a dance with Zayn, at least," Nick stands up, or tries to. He wobbles and Harry is quick enough to steady him. "Harold, let go of me, you twat."

  Sighing, I take Nick by his hand and drag us to the dance floor. As soon as we're at the centre, he puts his hands on my hips, pulling me close to him. I just groan, knowing this is a doomed... well, doomed everything.

  "Tell me," Grimmy leans down, his alcohol-tinged breath falling against my ear. "What made you change your mind?"

  "Are you that drunk, Grimshaw?" I hiss as I throw my arms around his neck, pulling his head down close to me. "I thought you knew about Harry and me."

  "Zayn, Zayn, Zayn," his voice is patronising, but his words aren't as slurred as they were. "I'm not pissed like I made Harry believe. I just wanted a word with you, away from him."

  "Since when did you act?"

  "Since I had to learn how to act like I'm oblivious about you wanting Harry, you idiot," Nick rolls his eyes, or at least I think he does, and pulls me closer to him. "And he's not up for sale, Zayn."

  "Bravo for acting," I pull his body even closer to me, feeling his semi against my own. "Why even bother contacting me then, hmm?"

  "Because I can tell there's something between the two of you, you idiot," he then turns around, pressing his arse against my growing problem. I let out a strangled moan as he gyrates his hips, his hands cupping my arse cheeks. "So why don't we have Harry a wee bit drunk and see where that leads to?"

 "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" I raise my brow, a natural reaction to this ridiculous proposal. "You can't be serious."

  "I am, actually."

  He leads us back to where Harry is after the song ends, who's having his who knows however many'th drink. From the colour, it looks like whiskey to me.

  "Harry, how many had you?" Grimmy wraps his arm around his boyfriend's shoulder, a gesture that's rather possessive. "You look proper pissed." 

  "Eight?" Harry holds out six fingers, giggling cutely. "You were gone too long."

  "About 4 minutes, I reckon," I rub my hand over my face, internally struggling with myself whether or not to go with Grimshaw's idea. "You're wasted."

  "And you're hot," Harry giggles again, a light blush colouring his cheeks. "Oops, that was supposed to be a secret!"

  "I think we should head back home, popstar," Grimmy grouses, taking Harry by the shoulders after paying the barmaid who's been eyeing him for last couple minutes. "My place or yours?" He directs the last part at me, raising a brow.

  "Yours," I say that for some unknown reason.

~*~

  "Fuck, you're a clingy drunk," Grimmy mumbles as he tries to pry Harry's fingers off of him, trying to lie him down on their - probably - shared bed. Harry just clings to Grimmy like a koala to a tree, refusing to let go. "We can cuddle later, yeah?"

  "Don't wanna cuddle though," Harry mumbles, shucking all his clothes off - even his trousers. "God, I feel so hot right now..."

  Now that should be my cue to leave but Grimmy throws a look over his shoulder, at me, reminding me of his offer.

  "Do you want Zayn to stay, popstar?" He asks his boyfriend, crooning into his ear as he palms Harry's growing erection. "Wanna suck him off as I pound into your tight arse, love?"

  "That sounds lovely," Harry giggles for the millionth time tonight. "Would you like that as well, Zaynie?" He asks, his pupils dilated from drunkenness and lust.

  "I... um..."

  Apparently, Grimmy doesn't like that answer because next second, he's up on his feet again (I didn't notice he was lying on the bed with Harry anyways) and pulls my head down, his lips near my ear, breaths fanning against my face.

  "I know the way you look at my boyfriend, Malik. I know you wish he were yours, just 'cos you were too afraid of asking him out when you'd the chance long ago. So please, take tonight's chance and get over with it already," he reaches down to grab my semi-hard on, making me groan. "I know the thought of Harry blowing you is making you harder than ever, so join us."

  "You want me to join you and your boyfriend and take advantage of him? That's low for you, Grimshaw," I hiss back at the DJ, my voice hushed. "He's fucking pissed and you want me to fuck him?"

  "Darlin', you haven't a clue how many times he screamed out your name when it was me fucking into his tight arse, your name when I made him come three times just from fingering him," I don't know if he's playing with me or telling me the truth. Even so, why would Harry moan my name whilst making  _love_  with his boyfriend? "And yes, it was definitely your name he screamed last night when we fucked in the shower."  _Maybe Grimmy has a thing for that? Or Harry fancies me?_ "So be a sane dick and just come with us."

  "Fuck you," I say for the fifth time tonight. "You're playing with my feelings."

  "Malik," Nick's voice is laden with pure seduction, like he really wants in my pants. "Harry lusts for you,  _yearns_  for your tiniest touch. You lost your chance before, well, this is the moment to seize it."  

   _ten minutes later..._

  "Doesn't he feel so tight, love?"

  I must have gotten drunker than I thought because hell, my fingers are buried inside Harry's tight arse, with Grimmy's dick right below it. They weren't kidding about Harry blowing me whilst being fucked. Harry's mouth is really talented, that much I know, and his little moans are making my dick harder than ever.

  "Good job, babe," Grimmy leans down to press a kiss to Harry's perspiring forehead, his eyes trained on me. "I'll start now."

  The force from the rough, hard thrusts are enough to dislodge my fingers but I keep the tips near stretched rim, wondering briefly what it would feel like to have a dick inside me. 

  (Harry's dick, never Grimshaw's.)

  "Little love," Nick whispers in Harry ear, which requires hella flexibility. "Are you satisfied?" The loud moans tell me Harry's being fucked in the right place.

  "God, his lips..." I begin to thrust into Harry's wet warmth, groans echoing in the room. "Do you always offer to suck your friend off, Haz?"

  Harry can't reply, so he just nods, dislodging my member deeper inside his sinfully tight throat. It doesn't take long for me to release down his throat, my eyes screwing shut. Harry swallows around my tip, making the orgasm ever more intense. He moans around me, sending pleasurable shivers down my dick. I pull out, panting loudly as I pat at Harry's messed up hair. Grimshaw is now full-on thrusting into his boyfriend, his ridiculously long fringe covering half his face. Harry mewls pitifully, letting his boyfriend fuck him.

  My last view is Harry moaning out, then blackness takes over me.

~*~

  "God, you sleep a lot," is the first thing I hear when I regain consciousness, blinking off sleep in a tired manner. Hello, I just woke up with a massive headache that just greeted me! "Harry, how do you carry him when he's drunk afterparty for tours?"

  "Liam does, I just help him," Harry replies, sounding slower than the usual.

  I pass out again, probably imagining Harry say my name.

~*~

  When I wake up again, sunlight is peeking through the half-closed blinds, and only Harry is by the bed. I don't hear Grimshaw's voice so that's a plus.

  "We need to talk," Harry tells me, handing me Advil for the hangover. "About us."

  "There's no 'us', Harry. I asked you to be mine two years ago and you were scared, hence the reason why we're friends."

_"Harry, we can make this work," I pleaded, unshed tears blurring my eyesight. "You know I'll never love anyone as much as I love you. You hold the two halves of my heart, always will."_

_"No, you know how Louis fancies you. I know you and he hooked up more than a handful of times so don't bother denying it," there was nothing but furied sadness in Harry's emerald depths, his tone holding a note of finalty. "Don't give me the I-was-drunk excuse. How do you claim to have a place for me in your heart when it was over from the start?"_

_The tears were running down my cheeks freely now, the rejection too much for me._

_"We can make this work, I know we can..." I sounded broken, like I wasn't worth his time. "I only have eyes for you. Not even Louis' arse can change it."_

_"I'm going on a date with Grimmy tomorrow. Don't try to stop me."_

  "You said I had a chance with Louis, which was the main reason you didn't want to date me," I relay what he told me exactly two years ago today. "Were you lying?"

  "I knew Nick would be the one who'd never fuck his  _best friend_  after couple shots! He and I shared true love," Harry refutes, his cheeks mottling from anger.

  "Did you..?"

  "He and I ended it 'cos it's always been you, never anyone else."

  Harry jumps into the bed and crashes his lips onto mine, making me forget the last two years of longing.

  And one-sided love.

  We kiss for endless time, until our lips are sore, and lack of oxygen is apparent.

  "I love you, Harry Edward Styles and I'll make this perfect again."

 


End file.
